Wheeling Gull Isle where the wind’s like a whetted knife

"no!" she screeched, her paws drumming against the ground, what few muscles she had rippling through her pelt as he feet landed heavily. before her moved a fox, quick and smart-witted. a rabbit dangled from it's black muzzle, and the pearl appeared furious. it slung insults at her through it's teeth, only egging her on. "that's mine!" she hollered after it, but her pleas were not enough-- and she was too weak to outrun it right now. but she tried. it had stolen her catch, the first in a few days. they reached the coast, too absorbed in the chase to pay attention to the sky, and the fox dove. aria skidded to a halt realizing the ocean was a bit choppier and knowing her frame would be swept up easier than usual, her ears pinning to her skull.

she followed the red dollop from on shore, eyes narrowed. he was not swimming long though, for a particularly forceful wave crashed down upon him and suddenly, he was gone. aria paused and watched for a while, minutes ticking by, before suddenly giving up. the fox was gone, and along with it her dinner. she stared into the rough sea, and in the distance the ominous sky. something was wrong, she could sense it, and after a brief hesitation, she backed herself off of the shore and back onto drier land.